Moving between worlds

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I find it too easy for my inner vision to be clouded by every day concerns and responsibilities; my physical life often weighs heavy on my heart. The physical world is also provides the key for my sprit to be unshackled and to regain flight.

Knowing the cues
The sound of the breeze through trees; the swish of the sea on the shore; the scent of jasmine; or the sight of a gently flickering candle help me to make an inner connection, however this doesn’t always do the trick.

The next step
I have written posts about the challenge of capturing as many ideas as possible when my mind is abuzz with inspiration. When the opposite is true, it is like casting a fine mesh net into a sluggish sea. Most of the brainwaves flow through and only a small number of seeds of inspiration are collected.

As with all fishing, patience and taking a break can help achieve a result. As my thoughts spark, connect and add substance to the seeds, they often prove to be a catalyst for something worthwhile. Even if I don’t succeed, beating myself up about it isn’t productive and there will usually be an opportunity to have another go.

Related posts
Butterfly Thoughts
Creative Passion

Marvellous light

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In the midst of dank intestinal twists,
A fetid cavernous abyss lies, where
Forgotten rheumy eyed daemons languish.
In the gloom, glowering grotesque gremlins
Grab ghostly globules from around a tomb.

Glistening silver threads of ectoplasm,
Crisscross overhead caught in pinprick shafts
Of moonlight. Crystalline walls emit a
Faint rose pink light, gently pulsing, adding
Incorporeal warmth to the womb like room.

Rise from the depths of despair, grasp the flame
Within, shine it on the sinuous path,
Marvel in the power of inner light.

(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved

Grains of creation

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Everything connected through energy,
Atoms linked include the seen and unseen,
What has past, what is now and what will be,
Particles joined, grains of creation.

(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved

Picture credit: Hubble Heritage Team (AURA/STScI/NASA/ESA)

Chalk bytes

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Playing with ArtStudio at the weekend reminded me of primary school; we were equipped with wooden lift topped desks although we didn’t use the inkwells. I remember having and using a personally assigned timber framed rectangular slate and white chalk. Compared to todays high tech world this period of change from nib and ink to ball point and felt tip pen was like upgrading operating systems.

Winter pink

20130811-182327.jpgA walk from Lewisham to Dulwich Hill and back today provided plenty of photo opportunities. I couldn’t resist cherry blossom against a deep blue sky.

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The magnolia blooms in the garden have begun to open, capturing images of them is becoming an obsession.

A taxing day

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Paperwork
Yesterday trickled like water through my fingers. Our first job was to set up the dining table; the perfect surface to get everything together for the annual tax return. We sorted 12 months worth of receipts into categories ready for data entry and then the motivation to complete the task evaporated.

Spring’s just around the corner
Already the flowers on west facing magnolias are changing from magenta to pale pink while some maple trees haven’t fully shaken off their leaves from last year. Early flowing jasmine buds, tinged with pink look ready to set loose waves of intoxicating fragrance upon the streets of Sydney.

The beautiful blue skied sunny day typical for Winter in Sydney could not be wasted by staying indoors. Following a couple of false starts we walked with Stan from Lewisham, through the suburbs of Petersham, Stanmore, Newtown and Erskineville. We stopped briefly at parks and trees for Stan to mark and connect with our route.

Relief from the dusty road
After walking for five kilometres we were ready for lunch at Bitton, a French inspired cafe in Alexandria. An outside table and a bottle of Baron Edmond de Rothschild Les Laurets, Puisseguin-Saint-Emilion were the perfect accompaniment to slow roasted pork shoulder with fennel slaw and a salmon burger. We did not really need the bread and pudding with sauce Anglaise or rhubarb tart, but it is still Winter after all!

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Following lunch it took just over one hour to walk home through Erskineville, Newtown, Marrickville and Petersham. An afternoon nap and the satisfaction of a ten kilometres round trip were the perfect tonic to ease my hot feet.

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View toward Erskineville from Bitton Cafe.